


Play The Game

by Rae_Stickler



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bullying, Class tensions, Drama, Emotional, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Rags to Riches, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, long chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Stickler/pseuds/Rae_Stickler
Summary: When a chance meeting between Liam Rys and waitress/baker Esther Martinez shifts Esther's world entirely, it's up to House Beaumont and her best friend, Dani Lopez, to support her journey to Liam's heart and Cordonia's crown. However, when outside forces, political ploys, and greed threaten her chance at a happy ending, will she be able to take on the powers that be while remaining true to herself? Can Esther and Dani's relationship withstand this royal imposition, or are they fated to go their separate ways?Play The Game is a retelling of Pixelberry's The Royal Romance. All characters other than Esther Martinez and Dani Lopez (and a handful of side characters) belong to Pixelberry. Be forewarned, I deviate from the canon frequently; strong language and sexual content. In this story, Leo is replaced with Black Liam, who is named Damien because he was my king during my playthrough.
Relationships: Drake Walker/Original Character(s), Liam Rys & Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	1. Bachelors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my real-life bestie. Thank you for falling down this rabbit hole with me. It's been an enlightening use of time <3

The apron was a fragrant miasma of simple syrup and rubbing alcohol she’d grown accustomed to almost every day once the sun set over Santa Monica. Sure, her other apron with embroidered pastel purple and pink filigree that swooped and curled her name over her right breast was a better inhale, what with its badges of sugar, flour, and buttery icing. It was her preferred uniform by far, one that put more of a bounce in her step whenever she tied it on. But that apron was for daytime; this one – black and without embellishment except for the deep waist pocket for her notepad – was for long nights catering to two types of people: those demanding a good time, and those wanting an escape. The rowdy din pulsing through the walls of the break room assured her tonight was going to be a war of both.

“You’re quitting, aren’t you?”

The familiar voice behind her cracked a smile through her pensive stare into the dingy locker. Esther turned around and revealed a contented grin at the doorway where her best friend leaned, bangled arms pretzeled at her chest. She was in black, too, though of her own agenda and without an apron. She looked like she did any other day. 

“What makes you say that?” asked Esther.

Her friend met her just inside the door. “Aside from the fact you’ve been putting on that apron for the past five minutes, you’re doing the faraway, ‘why I am still here’ look again.”

Esther rolled her vibrant brown eyes. “And you can magically see my expression through the back of my head, huh, Dani?”

Dani’s expression muted, matte plum-painted lips now colored in sarcasm. “ _Sorry_ , I meant from the slouch in your shoulders and your forever conversation with Matt at the front door even though you should’ve been back from your lunch break like ten minutes ago. You’re either in love with him, or you didn’t want to come back at all.”

“Or _you’re_ jealous I didn’t hang out by your booth,” Esther returned, giving the long braid hanging over Dani’s shoulder a tug. Sniggering, Esther shook her head. “Matt – _really_? That’s the best you could come up with?”

Dani trailed Esther between shiny metal surfaces where the kitchen staff, Arnold, Juan, and Marco, flipped and tossed and patted and seasoned while exchanging crude stories and jokes the girls actively ignored. Halfway through the flimsy kitchen door, Paul skirted in and parted the couple, flashing them a brief, rueful smile while inquiring to Marco about his pending order. Marco waved a flippant spatula at him which rerouted the inquiry into a shouting match both Esther and Dani rolled their eyes at.

Before she could comment over her shoulder about the scene, Esther ran directly into Jameson. Ricocheting off his lanky figure, he stood affronted before her with his fists on his hips and the same scowl he always wore no matter what day it was.

“Jesus, Esther, this place is crowded enough as it is!”

“Sorry, Jame –”

“And Dani!” The older man directed his menacing green eyes to the other woman, who tilted her head and pursed her dark lips up at him. “You have no business in the kitchen whatsoever. You either play your set or hop behind the bar.”

“Wow, James, are those my _only_ two options?” said Dani coolly, and she gave his black bowtie a defiant wiggle.

Jameson batted her hand away and readjusted the neck adornment. “Absolutely not. The third is unemployment, which you’re tiptoeing close to by standing around doing nothing.”

Dani sighed. “Nothing, huh? Being verbally abused by my manager wasn’t my first choice on how to spend my time at work, honestly.”

Esther stifled a laugh behind her hand that she attempted to pass off as a yawn. “Anyway, Jameson, I’ve got to get back to my section.”

Jameson peeled his white-hot glare from Dani to Esther. “There’s been a change. You’re covering section 3. A table of four young men just came in; one is already insistent on having drinks brought out. _Handle it_ , Martinez. And you!” he pounced at her counterpart, who eyed him, bored, “Get to the music or head out, Lopez. I don’t pay you to escort Esther every shift.”

As Jameson lurched past the bar, Esther clamped an instinctive hand on Dani’s wrist and held her in place, negating the quick two-stepped lunge her friend attempted in Jameson’s wake. Dani ripped her hand away in a huff.

“That cranky ass motherfucker,” sneered Dani as she straightened the wide black brim of the hat haloing her head. “One day I’m gonna make enough money to buy this place out and turn it into an actual club, and then I’m gonna employ his ass as my janitor just so I can make him mop up all the glittery puke from my drunk-off-their-asses patrons.”

“You clearly dream big.”

Dani scoffed, “Don’t you have a table of dudes to take care of?”

“And don’t you have some angsty house music to play, Ms. Spinster?”

She watched her friend smooth a hand down the front of her black button-down blouse, the thin assortment of silver crosses clanking together on the shallow slope of her chest.

“It’s _DJ_ Spinster, thank you,” came Dani’s snarky return. “Now go make those tips so we can get the fuck outta this shithole.” She gave Esther’s behind a frisky smack and carried on towards the back of the bar.

Esther watched her go, a fond smirk playing on her nude lips that dissipated the instant Paul rushed by and halted at a nearby table, a frantic look on his face.

“You got the bachelor party, right?”

“Jameson told me to take Section 3.”

Setting a spread of mozzarella sticks and onion rings in front of his patrons and flashing them a professional smile, Paul tucked the tray under his arm and whipped around to face Esther. His coarse fingertips massaged his distressed demeanor into her shoulder as he held her at arm’s length.

“That’s the bachelor party. I was supposed to help but I’ve really gotta head out – like, five minutes ago.”

Narrowing her gaze, Esther shrugged out of his hand. “Damn, Paul, you’re cutting out early again?”

“I’m _really_ sorry, Esther.”

She shook off his response and glanced back at the cluster of active booths in Section 3. Sighing, she said, “Well, I better go then. I’m assuming they still haven’t gotten their drinks.”

“You’re truly the best!” he called after her.

“You truly owe me,” she threw back.

Lining her shoulders, Esther weaved her way on knowing feet through the crowd and tables. Silky, seductive beats emanated from Dani’s speakers at her back, adding a slight sway in her walk. She nodded to another server in passing and offered practiced smiles to the tables she threaded between, gaze finally resting on the warm glow above the table Jameson was adamant she tend to. Four men sat along the curved dark leather of the booth, one midway out of his seat with eyes on the bar.

 _Mr. Denim’s sure in a hurry to get fucked up_ , she mused, the corners of her lips peaking. _Well, if anything, Paul’s ensured me a decent tip tonight. Nothing says double digit bills like young, women-less men in suits and button-ups salivating in the direction of the bar._

Picking up speed, Esther gracefully placed herself between the bar and the tall, dark-eyed man attempting to escape the booth.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologized, resting a calculated touch on Mr. Denim’s exposed forearm beneath the folded creases of his rolled sleeve.

“That’s quite alright!” chimed the man seated farthest from her. He wore a powder blue jacket over his black dress shirt and an orange bowtie. “Busy place means a good choice to dine!”

The man in front of her slumped back into the booth and casted brooding eyes in the other man’s direction. “Or, Maxwell, it’s a Friday night and you picked a place that everyone else in this city decided to welcome the weekend at.”

“Pff!” Maxwell waved the comment away and grinned up at Esther. “It was well worth the wait. Booze, strobey lights, and kinda scary dance music. I’d think of all people you’d be most appreciative, Drake.”

“Speaking of your wait,” cut in Esther as she retrieved the notepad from her apron, “you gentlemen are overdue for some drinks. What can I bring you to start? I can also put in appetizers while you peruse the menu.”

“That won’t be necessary,” the man beside Maxwell replied, his black hair meticulously styled. He wore a dapper three-piece suit that was out of place for the grungy atmosphere. “I think we’re all ready to order.” He side-glanced the last man, who sat between him and Drake. “Damien, you know what you want, yes?”

Damien nodded and smiled brilliantly up at Esther. His sharp features and dark skin were enhanced beautifully under the dim light hanging over the table.

“Normally, I’d say we should wait for Liam, but I think my brother can manage.”

Drake raked a hand through the loose strands of chestnut hair that fell along the side of his face. “Bullshit. Like me, you wouldn’t wait.”

Damien threw him a wink. “Miss,” he looked at Esther with stormy gray eyes, “I’m sorry you’ve been subjected to this tangent off your original comment.”

“So, we’re waiting on a fifth person.” She made a note on her pad and gave the table a professional beam. “Well, let me get you guys going then, as you’ve insisted.” She glanced down at Drake. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Whiskey, please.”

After noting this, she scribbled down a Mojito and two Sex on the Beaches for the others. “And to eat?”

“Steaks,” piped Maxwell. “Five of them.”

Esther offered him an apologetic grin. “Uh, actually, we don’t serve steaks here. Did you need a few more minutes with the menus?”

“Told you.”

Maxwell’s smile fell as he glanced across the table at Drake and curtly shrugged. “I thought that was a _thing_.”

The attempt at keeping his remark quiet in front of her made her bite her lip to stifle a giggle. _Oh god, is it 11 yet?_

“What would be like a steak-equivalent at an establishment like this?” Maxwell asked, pensive gaze fixed up at her and two slender fingers tapping his smooth chin. “Something manly, almost last supper-ish considering this is a bachelor party and all.”

 _Jesus Christ._ Esther cemented her smile. “I’d say the ‘manliest’ thing on the menu is the double angus burger. Top it with the jalapeño spread for a dollar-fifty and you just might grow hair on your chest.”

Damien snickered while Maxwell eyed her with an air of suspicion.

“How do _you_ know I don’t have hair on my chest?”

“Are we done, Maxwell?” huffed Drake. “I’d really like to drink now.”

Casting an evasive look across the table, Esther retrieved their menus. “I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

As she turned around, the space where the bar was supposed to became a flash of black and white. Her body halted against a hard, subtle sandalwood-scented wall. Esther stepped back and took in the taller form blocking her movement. He wore fitted black dress pants and a matching, trim blazer that offered her a view of the strip of white dress shirt between the jacket’s lapels. The top two buttons were undone, showcasing a v-shaped peek at his tanned skin.

“I’m –” began Esther but her words faltered.

His black hair was similarly styled to the nameless man’s in the booth, but with less product so that it moved with his motions in lithe elegance. Two warm brown eyes stared down at her beneath the sharp, almond curves of his eyelids, a charismatic, rueful smirk accenting the curve of his lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to finish, and took a reluctant step back.

His fingers cupped her elbow and after a moment, they lowered to his side. “Please, that was entirely my fault.”

“Ah, brother, you made it!”

“Finally _._ ”

“ _Liam!_ ”

“The man of the hour …”

But the greetings from the table meshed into the background noise of Dani’s setlist and the chatter around them as heat crept across Esther’s face.

“What can I get you a drink?”

He stared at her for a moment before the question registered. “Oh, you’re our waitress?”

They both chuckled and Esther nodded, the coolness of the hoop earrings dangling from her ears caressing the sides of her face.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Esther.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

The man grinned. “Your necklace.”

In a swift motion, her fingers touched the name plate hanging from the gold chain around her neck. “Oh, duh,” she giggled. “You must be Liam. The fifth man.”

“Intriguing. I thought I left my necklace at home.”

His jest roused from her another laugh, and she shook her head and stepped around him. “I should probably get those drinks before I end up having to foot the bill for your friends for making them wait any longer.”

“On the contrary, I’d make them wait all night before letting that happen. I’d love a beer, though. Whatever you think would suffice. I’m not picky.”

“Alright,” she replied, concrete steps moving her in the opposite direction. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I hope so.”

His trailing wish sent a rush of excitement through her all the way to the bar. She slipped the order to Tara behind the counter, who bobbed her head to the combative bass pulsing throughout the dining room like a seductive heartbeat. It thudded inside Esther’s ribcage, rattling this sudden wave of emotion to the point that she leaned against the bar and took a sheepish peek over her shoulder at the shadowy table in Section 3. Liam had placed himself beside Maxwell, who was speaking to him, hands gesticulating in excitement. Liam laughed and shook his head before scooting out of the booth at Maxwell’s sweeping gestures, the nameless man following. When Liam sat back down, his eyes found hers.

Heart racing, Esther quickly returned her focus to Tara’s back as the woman prepared their drinks. _He was totally not looking at me … was he?_

She side-glanced the dancefloor beyond the dining sections. Maxwell and his friend were on the outer edge of a cluster of dancers, seemingly in observance while moving out of sync. In the corner at her booth was Dani. Biting her lip, Esther stared her down in hopes the woman would glance up and find her, but her light nodding and fluid hand motions on the sleek black controller panel suggested she was in the zone.

“Girl, hello?”

Esther flinched and came face to face with Tara as she placed the tray of drinks in front of her.

“Eh, sorry, Tara.”

Tara shook her head and wiped a spot of liquid off the counter. “I know how it is. We work too much for shit pay and no sleep.”

“Tell me about it.” Esther collected the tray and headed on coy feet back to the table, every length lost in her stride filling her anxiety. _What the hell is wrong with you? Get your shit together, Martinez._

Lining her shoulders, she straightened up and eliminated the space between herself and Liam – _er, the bachelor party._ Another blush blossomed. _Goddammit._

* * *

This is how it was, unfortunately, all the way up to her last ten-minute break: she’d regain her composure, lean into her confidence, and then puddle into flushed mush whenever she found herself in Liam’s proximity. What made it worse was the fact that whenever she was forced to invade his space, he made a comment about it – about _her_ , specifically. He commended her diligence to their “neediness,” remarked about the grace she maintained when balancing the tray holding their burgers on her shoulder, and even attempted to help her collect their empty glasses when they were done with another alcohol-induced round.

She didn’t know how to take any of it; normally the people with money who chose this place as a last resort or for its gauche novelty tucked into the strip of upper class establishments along the beachfront didn’t even wad up their used napkins onto their decimated plates, let alone offer their assistance. But this man, the modest center of attention for whatever reason, was going out of his way to be decent. It was odd and refreshing and suspicious.

She couldn’t shake the intrigue all the way over Dani’s booth, where she decided to split a small basket of fries with her as she usually did on break. Dani yawned and stretched her arms up, and then plucked a few steaming fries from their woven plastic cradle while Esther tucked into a folding chair hidden behind the booth.

“No seasoned fries this time?”

“I didn’t want to bother Juan. They’re really busy.”

“God, can the next thirty minutes go any faster? I’m ready to pass the fuck out.” When Esther didn’t respond, Dani glanced down at her. “Woman, did you already pass out?”

“Hm?” She shook her head. “Sorry. I was lost on a thought.”

“That maybe working two fulltime jobs is insane?”

Esther rolled her eyes. “It’s not that.”

“Okay, so, what is it? I’m usually ten waitressing mishaps into your break by now.”

“I’m sure if our roles were reversed, we’d be double that.”

“Nah, I’d be fired like two years ago for spitting in some uptight douchebag’s chicken salad. You’re the one with angelic grace in the face of this dismal job.”

 _Grace …_ Esther shoved a fry between her lips.

“Hello, miss, is Esther back there?”

At the mention of her name, Esther snapped her head up.

“Dude, she’s on break.”

Despite Dani’s snarky response, Esther popped up. On the dancefloor below the front of the booth, Maxwell and Damien beamed up at her.

“Hi. What can I do for you?” she asked, avoiding her friend’s side-glare.

“We truly don’t mean to bother you,” started Damien.

“But, when you’re done, our friend Liam wanted to talk to you,” Maxwell cut in, and he shot a grin at his friend.

“Oh.” Ginger fingers brushed the end of one of her French braids that rested on the front her white uniform button-up.

Leaning against the booth, Maxwell added, “More of a question, really.” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

Dani matched his look and bent over the top of the booth. “No patrons on my setup.”

Maxwell quickly withdrew and chuckled nervously. At his side, Damien flashed her a grin.

“Vivacious.”

“You have no idea, fancy pants.”

Esther tugged Dani back by a beltloop and offered the men a contrite smile. “I’ll be there in a few. I promise.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Esther rounded on Dani. “Can you be _any more_ obnoxious?” She watched Dani’s bright, brown eyes rotate between black lined lashes.

“Like they’re gonna skip out on tipping _you_. You practically dumped your fries to jump at their request.” She suddenly hesitated. “Wait a sec, one of them wants to ask you a question?”

Esther shrugged. “I guess. Maybe for a comment card so they can report me to Jameson for my unpleasant _friend._ ”

“I don’t know,” Dani returned, narrow gaze fixed across the dancefloor as she crossed her arms, “I’ve been watching those two while they’ve been out here. They keep looking at you and whispering.”

“You’ve noticed, too?” Esther grabbed her wrist, her expression softening.

“Yeah. Something’s not right about those dudes.”

“Their, uh, friend – Liam – he’s really chatty.”

“I’d be careful. I can even back you up when you go over there if you want.” She caught Esther gazing over the crowd towards Section 3, her finger tugging at the end of her braid. Dani’s brows furrowed. “Don’t even think about it.”

Esther eyed her, hand falling into the other. “What?”

“Look, they’re obviously loaded, they can’t dance for shit, and _all_ of them keep smirking at you – I don’t care how _lucrative_ the opportunity may be, I forbid you to be gangbanged by dudes like _them._ ”

Her dark eyes dulled at Dani, a manicured eyebrow curving on her forehead. “First of all, you’re disgusting. Second, like you’re one to talk; you’ve fooled around with two of the cooks –”

Dani held up a hand and looked away. “I told you not to bring Juan and Marco up in here. Someone may hear and then I’ll have to put up with all the hurt feelings bullshit again.”

“ _Third_ ,” Esther continued, “I actually think their friend is … well, hot.”

Dani’s mouth fell open. “Which one?”

“Liam. The Asian one.”

“I haven’t seen an Asian one. Just the goofy white dude and his good-looking counterpart. And the one _way_ too overdressed for this dump …”

“He’s been at the table all night with the other white guy. He seems more your type: broody and invested in his drink.”

“Don’t even, Esther. I’ve sworn off dicks for now.” She patted the controller panel lovingly. “Besides you, Spinster’s my true love.”

Esther hip-checked her and hopped off the small landing of the booth onto the dancefloor.

“Don’t do it.”

Esther shot her a pointed grin. “Break’s over, babe.”

“Love at first sight is bullshit!” Dani called after her. “It’s all lust, I promise!”

Spinning around, Esther called back, “I’m collecting the _bill_ , Dani.”

Under her breath, Dani groaned, “I really need to tone down the sluttiness of my setlists.”

* * *

With covert precision, Liam scanned the room, his eyes eventually falling across the table on Drake. “Dessert?”

Drawing sharp patterns into the condensation on his empty glass, the corner of Drake’s mouth curled. “This is your party. Do _you_ want dessert?”

Liam settled against the backrest, a diplomatic smile on his face. “It seems a shame to end the evening so early.”

“Or, his Royal Highness had sudden inspiration for an act of uncharacteristic rebellion. Clearly, Damien’s rubbing off on you.”

“Does that make you jealous?”

“On the contrary, it makes me grateful. I’m no mentor. You know this.”

As a whirlwind of memories blew through his mind, Liam chuckled fondly until the boisterous room returned, leaving a cool breeze in its wake. “You and I’ve had some good times.”

“Don’t say it like that, Liam.”

“Like how?”

“Like you’re here to break the news we’ve all been selected to be your pallbearers.”

Shifting in his seat, Liam readjusted the leg he had over his knee, maintaining an even expression. In response, Drake sat forward, a palm on the table next to his glass.

“I’m not an idiot, Liam.”

“I never insinuated you are.”

“You trying to play diplomat with me right now says the opposite. Don’t insult me by pretending I’m _them_ , Liam.”

Liam’s smile broadened into a warm, unspoken apology. Leaning in with his elbows on the table, he replied, “You truly are my best friend. Always have been …”

“… Always will be.” Drake’s features softened. “You never have to pretend with me.”

“With Tariq here, I have to preserve some kind of decorum, even at the expense of honesty.”

“I don’t even know why you invited him.”

“My father thought it’d be the right thing to do since he’s recently recruited some business prospects. He feels a personal connection may due us a favor in the future.”

Drake waved the statement away and sadly glanced at the watery remnants of his glass. “If I’d have known sitting here in an attempt to keep you from committing emotional suicide would result in me having to listen to potential business transactions, I would’ve sucked it up and dealt with Maxwell’s dancing.”

Liam laughed. “Excuse me, Drake, but I’m afraid, per social construct, tonight’s about _me_.”

Drake’s gaze narrowed, a smirk attempting to throw off his faux seriousness. “Every night’s about you.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Looks like the waitress is coming back.” He watched Liam swivel in her direction. “Geez, Liam, don’t go breaking your royal neck, now. You were in my company last.”

But Liam hardly heard him. Instead, his attention lingered on the curvaceous figure cutting through the crowd, black, shoulder-length hair bound into two low-hanging French braids. White and red stage lights above the dancefloor bounced off her white top and exposed skin – dark, supple, and inviting. Her gold necklace and earrings glinted cheerfully at him.

She walked with confidence, with purpose, all the while showing off that radiant smile to everyone she passed. His insides fluttered. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a witness to beauty; he was drowning in it, really. Scheduled, primped, displayed in tradition and trend on pedestals of fine garments and wealth and obligation.

Natural beauty was a different thing entirely. Unassuming, genuine, kind in a setting where he was simply him, and she unapologetically her. Liam’s stomach tightened.

His tunneled view of her vanished as Maxwell, Damien and Tariq returned to the table.

“Esther’s coming,” remarked Maxwell, grinning ear to ear.

“Don’t.”

All eyes shifted to Drake, who remained stoic in the wake of his command.

“Draaaake,” started Maxwell in singsong, but the other man remained resilient.

“I’m being serious, Beaumont. Don’t encourage it.”

Tariq downed the last of his Sex on the Beach, the glass bottom rapping against the wooden tabletop as he returned it. “Please, Drake. Let ’em have who he wants, he’s the future king for Christ-sake.”

Drake shot the man a narrow glance, inciting a chuckle from Damien.

“Drake Walker, when did you become one to instigate tradition?”

“If this were any other situation –”

“What other situations are you suggesting?” Tariq cut in like a knife through butter. “Nobility prevails by sweeping those unspoken arrangements under the imported rug. Just look at Her Majesty Cassandra of the Davenport Isle.”

“Whoa …” Maxwell muttered, tugging on his collar and glancing away.

Liam looked between Tariq and the dangerous gaze Drake set upon him. “Now please, Lord Tariq, I’d prefer not to discuss foreign affairs that don’t concern us.”

“It was _quite_ the affair.”

Damien cleared his throat. “Alright, alright, Liam’s right. He’s also not that type of person.”

“I need some air,” Drake announced and stood, producing his wallet. After rummaging for a moment, he tossed some cash in front of Damien. “That should cover me and Liam.”

Tariq smirked. “Your friend is considerably sensitive, Liam.”

“He’s someone I’ve had the honor of growing up with,” Liam returned, evenly. “I trust him and his opinions with my life.”

“A sentiment that exemplifies your generosity, no doubt.” Tariq tossed a wadded-up napkin into the center of the table.

Maxwell sent an elbow into Liam’s side. “ _There_ you are Esther!”

Esther appeared at Liam’s other side, the sharp pain below his ribs subsiding.

“Here I am,” she agreed. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Your efforts tonight were exquisite, miss,” answered Damien as he collected Drake’s lone cash and produced a credit card.

“Glad to be of service.”

“If I could get the bill, we’ll definitely allow you time to your other patronage.”

“I guess we’re both lucky because I have the damage and you’re my last table tonight.”

“We’re very lucky then,” said Liam.

While Esther left to handle the transaction, Liam regarded his remaining friends. “If I’m not being too presumptuous about our time together, I’d like to continue the evening, gentlemen.”

Maxwell bounced beside him. “It’s _your_ party, Liam! I’m down to party all night if you want!”

Damien nodded, a grin splitting his face.

“It’d be a waste to return to the hotel so early,” added Tariq.

When Esther returned, the men filed out of the booth, Liam loitering just behind Maxwell. In a polite effort, he took gentle hold of her elbow.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything tonight, Esther.”

“Please, it was my pleasure.”

Proffering her a warm smile, he continued, “Still, I feel bad that we kept you from your other guests with our unyielding demands.”

Esther giggled and shook her head. “Really, it’s no problem. For being so needy, you all were entertaining. Definitely more so than other tables I’ve waited on.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“So I was told.”

Heat rose along the back of his neck, the unrelenting desire to grin inevitable. “Well … you see, me and my friends are not from around here.”

Esther gave him an obvious once-over. “I could tell.”

Liam chuckled. “Are we that obvious?”

“Absolutely, but I wasn’t gonna press the topic.”

“Since this my first time in Santa Monica – well, in Southern California, I was wondering if you, as a local, could suggest our next adventure? Perhaps a club or a place nearby that we as tourists should visit? Also, I wouldn’t mind indulging in something sweet. I noticed the menu was a little limited in options.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve suggested an actual dessert menu to my manager but he’s a little … combative when it comes to constructive criticism.” She paused, an internal bout of speculation leaving her jittery. “It’s too bad it’s so late. I would’ve suggested going to the bakery I work at a few doors down from here. They have amazing pastries.”

Liam’s eyes grew wider. “You work at a bakery as well?”

“I gotta pay the bills,” she replied, nonchalant. “I actually really love that job, to be honest. Being around the wonderful smells, creating things that make people smile … it’s great.”

Her response brought about a craving in Liam that tugged at his heart. Straightening the knot of his tie, he made his decision.

“Esther, you’ve obviously had a long day and our presence hasn’t made that any easier, but I’d be remiss not to invite you out for at least a drink.” Before she could answer, he pressed, “I insist. You certainly deserve someone extending the courtesy you’ve bestowed upon us. Though, I must admit, the way you described your job at the bakery, I’m slightly disappointed I won’t be able to indulge in one your confections.”

“We open tomorrow at 11.”

Liam’s smile dropped. “Unfortunately, I’ll be tied up with some prior obligations.”

Esther observed him for a moment, the apparent regret on his face somehow genuine. _Oh god, what am I doing?_ Heart thumping in her chest, she managed an efforted swallow.

“Look, Liam, you said you wanted to see some sights. I … well, I opened the bakery today, meaning I have the keys.” She watched his expression grow hopeful. “I could technically let you try one. Ya know, since you’ll be ‘obligated’ tomorrow – and because I can clearly see you tourists need a local taste of California not laced in simple syrup and booze.”

Chuckling, Liam gave her a nod. “So, she has a knack for breaking rules.”

“ _Only_ because you weren’t a bunch of animals tonight.” She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder.

“Is something the matter?”

“Oh,” she turned back to him, “I should probably let my friend know where I’m going. She’s the one DJing tonight.”

“Why not invite her?”

“Honestly, I was gonna say that … only because it’d be more of a fair fight should any of you try something funny.”

Liam winced. “Oh – that wasn’t my –”

“That was a joke,” she laughed, and then grew serious. “Mostly.”

He waited for her to smile again, and when she did, joy spread through him unlike ever before.

“Give us, like, twenty minutes, okay? Meet us in front of the tattoo parlor next door. And try not to be tempted by their cheap prices. I’d hate to spend the rest of the night laughing at you over a drunken impulse I’d never let you live down.”

Beaming, Liam took a reluctant step away. “I won’t disappoint you, Esther.”

* * *

“ _You what?_ ”

Esther and Dani stood in front of Esther’s locker as she hurriedly tossed her apron into the metal space.

“How do I look?” she questioned, shifting a braid over her shoulder.

“Like someone who just worked twelve hours straight and opted to be abducted by a bunch of foreigners!”

“Why do you think I invited you?” she exclaimed and moved past Dani, who followed hot on her heels.

“Oh, and I’m supposed to suddenly know Tae Kwan Do to save your ass? Esther!” She latched onto her friend and spun her around. “You’re being serious?”

“Dani, come on! You’re always telling me I should take chances – that I should take a break from routine and relax.”

“I meant treat yourself to a pedicure. A vacation in Paris. Hell, buy a fucking cat!”

Esther ripped herself from Dani’s grip and kept on. “I _like_ this guy. I’m attracted to him. And honestly, I think he may like me.”

“Look, I’m not anti that. He’d be an idiot _not_ to think you’re hot, because you are. But didn’t you say this was a bachelor party? Isn’t that a no girl zone? And if they’re foreigners, they may think they’re buying your time for something else.”

“I made it clear to Liam that’s not what this is.”

“Holy shit …”

In the middle of the kitchen, Esther stopped and looked at her, eyes shimmering a plea. “Dani, you’re my best friend. I respect everything you’re saying right now, but I really need you with this. I mean, I’m not saying this is gonna be some romantic thing at all. Best case, I give them some amazing eclairs and they go on to some trendy club on the boardwalk, and we head home to sleep.”

Dani crossed her arms and shook her head. “I’d hate to imagine the worst case …”

“You remember when we used to be spontaneous? When we actually had fun instead of waking up, going to work and then passing out, all to repeat the cycle the next day?”

Defiant, Dani shifted her weight, popping her hip.

“When we’d close down a club, not because you were working it, but because we were dancing and drinking all night? When we were a lot less cynical about everything?”

Dani smacked her lips. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens in the big city, Esther. Bills and broken hearts and an endless pursuit of dreams that become more unattainable every day.”

Shooting a glare, Esther shook her head and started walking away. “You know, if Rey actually found you decent jobs, even on the other side of the country, I’d go with you, no questions asked – oh, wait! That already happened. New York, 2018.”

Guilt puddled in her stomach, Dani watched her shove open the kitchen door and disappear.

“What are you and your girlfriend fighting about now?”

“Fuck off, Marco!” Dani snapped at him as he flipped a burger patty and snickered at her. With an irate huff, Dani sprinted after her.

Unsurprised, she found Esther standing just inside the front door near the empty host both. Sighing, she approached with caution and then stopped beside her. Esther gripped the handle, vacant gaze fixed on her reflection in the tinted glass.

“You’re right. What am I doing?”

“No, Es. I’m an idiot.”

Esther searched the side of her face for a moment.

“I would absolutely lose all my best friend cred if I held you back from what you wanted to do … because I know you’d do exactly this if I asked.”

“You’d never ask me to go with you on one of your sexual exploits.”

“True. But this isn’t a sexual exploit.” Dani offered her a small smile. “Your taste in men is much healthier and stable.”

Esther grinned.

“Not that you don’t know how to be a ho.”

Then, Esther laughed.

“No judgement.”

Esther sighed. “It’s just pastries.”

“Yes. Right. Pastries.”

Esther pushed the door open and Dani caught her arm, halting her.

“But, if this fucker _doesn’t_ put out for you putting your job on the line, promise me you’ll dump his ass in a heartbeat.”

“You really don’t believe in gray areas, do you?”

They walked side by side onto the strand where the crowd had thinned but had not completely diminished even with the late hour. Colorful, blinking lights beckoned night owls to Pacific Pier farther down the beach. A few stalls were still open where vendors offered every passerby the perfect trinket to honor their west coast visit. Couples and groups of college kids meandered past the twosome for a stroll down the coast or in search of their next party spot. And through the clearing, Esther caught sight of the five familiar men, Liam with his back to her. Much to her surprise, the guy named Maxwell met her gaze and flitted his angular chin in her direction.

Suddenly, Liam’s affectionate smile found her. Butterflies danced unashamed in her stomach.

“Esther,” he greeted and extended his hand. When she took it, he softly pulled her into the circle. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my friends, mostly so we’re all IDed should something go amiss.”

They all tittered politely, except Drake and Dani.

“This is Tariq.”

Tariq reached for her hand and placed a kiss on the inside of her palm. “It’s a pleasure, miss.”

Retracting, Esther stepped back into Liam’s hand between her shoulder blades.

“And my brother, Damien.”

Damien bowed, a glint in his eye. “An absolute pleasure.”

“My best friend, Drake.”

Drake nodded, hands tucked in his pockets.

“And Maxwell.”

“His _other_ best friend,” Maxwell chimed. “The non-grumpy one.”

Drake rolled his eyes and fixed on Dani, who lingered just behind Esther’s other side. “She with you?”

Esther linked an arm with Dani’s and lurched her forward between herself and Drake. “Yes. This is my best friend, Dani.”

Maxwell’s saucer-sized eyes glimmered an abrupt awareness. “Wait, you’re the DJ!”

“I sure am. I also have a license to carry, know how to properly dispose of dead bodies, and have a Costco-size amount of pepper spray in my purse.” She smiled brightly.

“Oh my god,” gasped Maxwell, “I think I just fell in love.”

“Get your chin off the floor,” Drake sighed. “So, Liam, what’s next?”

“Well, our new friends have offered us dessert,” he explained, looking to Esther. “Though, we’d be trespassing, technically.”

“Right. So, I work at a bakery a few doors down that’s currently closed, but I have the keys to the building. We can grab some goodies and then … well, you guys can do whatever you want, I suppose.”

“Which means we have to be on our best behavior,” Liam added.

“When are we ever _not_ on our best behavior?” Maxwell searched around the group, settling on Drake’s unimpressed demeanor. “Well, mostly …”

Esther led the group down the strand, Liam at her side, the others trailing. Tariq and Damien made commentary about the activities they passed while Maxwell babbled on about the street vendors to an uninterested Drake, who was scrolling through his phone. Dani did the same on Esther’s other side, actively ignoring every question Liam asked Esther about the pier and Santa Monica and Southern California in general.

Soon they were all huddled around the shopfront of Cuppy Designs. With haste, Esther unlocked the door and slipped inside. She punched in the security code on a panel behind the register to disarm the pending alarm, then ushered them in. Flipping a switch, the shadowy interior sprung to life, revealing a white, teal, and pink space. At the front were empty glass display cases and curvy cake and cupcake towers. Posters featuring brightly colored cakes, pastries and cupcakes decorated the white and teal-trimmed walls. Tall, round tables and stools were spaced in front of a bright pink queue leading to the counter.

With their backs to one another, Liam, Drake and Maxwell took in the vividness of the cozy shop and inhaled the subtle essence of cake and sugar hanging in the air.

“This is adorable,” breathed Maxwell, mouth agape.

“Definitely not where I thought a bachelor party would end up.”

Liam tossed a bemused look over his shoulder. “Come now, Drake, as a lover of food, even you must be impressed.”

“I’ll be more impressed when I see some actual food.”

“She can’t keep the cupcakes out overnight, genius,” said Dani coolly as she sauntered past them. Hopping onto the edge of the counter, she crossed her ankle-high boots at the laces and locked a critical gaze on him.

“No shit,” he retorted and planted himself on a stool away from Dani, who watched him like the ominous presence of an obsidian-feathered owl regarding a field mouse.

Insistent on diffusing any potential situation, Esther retreated behind the counter. “Obviously, I can’t whip up anything fresh right now, but we have a refrigerator of prepared items for the next day, things that didn’t sell, etcetera. I’ll grab a smorgasbord of goodies for you all to try.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Maxwell.

“The only thing is, we won’t be able to eat in here. The crew already cleaned, and I can’t falsely advertise that the place is open to everyone walking by.”

“Of course,” agreed Liam, and he glanced out the glass-lined storefront. “What about on the beach? I’m sure that would be a lovely place to sit and enjoy our desserts.”

Maxwell eagerly nodded. “I wanted to visit the beach.”

“But that means we’d have to discard our shoes,” Tariq interjected, a hint of worry in his tone.

Damien cocked an eyebrow in his friend’s direction. “I’m sure they’d survive a relatively short hike across the sand.”

Offended by the ludicrous suggestion, Tariq presented his pristine khaki canvas loafers to the group. “Damien … these are Gucci.” He then darted harsh eyes in the direction of Drake’s unrepenting snicker.

Esther and Dani left them to sort out the shoe conundrum and headed into the back room, transferring a bountiful assortment from the fridge into a few carrying containers. Returning, they found the men already assembled near the door. Maxwell promptly sprinted back to the counter and took a container from them both, flipping the light switch with his elbow in route.

“Go ahead,” Esther announced from the register, “I’ve gotta lock up.”

Liam watched her grab her wallet from her purse and stuff some cash into the till. He waited in spite of her command, allowing his friends and Dani to cross onto the strand. Their eyes met once again as she walked to him, toting the last container. He took it from her, held open the door and watched her lock it.

“Allow me to pay you for this,” he told her quietly, a shoulder leaned against the cool wall of glass.

“No thank you.” She slipped the keys into her purse. “Consider it a bachelor gift to … well, to whoever in the group is the lucky guy.”

He felt foolish at the statement, as wholesome and kind as it was; that inherent feeling twisted into regret and fear that wound into a single entity and collected in his center like an uncomfortable stone, propelling him away from the window. However, his upbringing shielded this slip, and Liam kept the mask situated on his face without effort … well, with a _tiny_ bit of effort.

This surprised him. It generally was an uncomplicated task, but the company at his side who crossed the concrete onto an expanse of soft sand compelled a tug-o-war of strength and guilt inside him unlike any other. For some unknown reason, Liam wanted to pour the truth into her lap, confident in her ability to be just in light of his flaws; another part of him wanted to lie.

 _That_ was different.

Smoothing a hand along the trimmed cut of hair above his ear, Liam did something he’d never done in the face of duty: he said nothing. To his contentment, Esther didn’t seem to notice. Her steps crunched in cadence with his as they descended the tiny berm towards a panorama of endless velvet blue water and white moon-shattered caps rippling the otherwise sleepy surface.

Their friends gathered on a strip of dry sand above the tide in controlled dysfunction. Tariq stood guard of the shoes and designer socks he cradled at his chest, the ends of his dress pants rolled two meticulous times so that only his feet made contact with the sand. He barked at Maxwell and Drake to keep a distance as they discarded their shoes and socks and jogged on to the surf. Hands in his pockets, Damien burrowed his feet into the wet sand between the water’s edge and the group. Dani settled a few paces away, knees gathered at her chest, gaze lost somewhere beyond the void of the horizon.

Liam placed the container with the two Maxwell left, and he and Esther sank to their knees so that she could reveal their bounty. She tried to protest when Liam shrugged out of his jacket to use as a blanket for the desserts but gave in when the garment made contact anyway. Tariq gulped a whimper. Dani rolled her eyes.

As soon as everything was prepped, Damien called Maxwell and Drake back. The group passed around sprinkled cake pops and green and purple frosted cupcakes, a massive slice of rainbow crepe cake, and chocolate glazed éclairs. Maxwell helped himself to what he proclaimed to be the crown jewel of the pick – the rainbow crepe cake, while everyone else enjoyed nibbles and ripped portions of the rest.

Eventually, Tariq found it in himself to submit to a seat in the sand and smoothed out his socks beside his thigh to place his shoes upon. Maxwell called for some tunes, receiving an avid glare from Dani that simmered with a reproaching look from Esther. Pulling out her phone, Dani played a random beach-inspired playlist and endured Jimmy Buffet’s “Margaritaville.” She licked away teal frosting from her cupcake and wished on the first star she found that she was wasting away on some kind of booze somewhere else.

After Liam finished off an éclair, he sucked remnants of chocolate from his fingertips and flashed Esther a radiant smile.

“That was absolutely sinful.”

Another blush bloomed. Tossing one of her braids back, she looked at the chipped red polish on her toes to avoid his adorableness. “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to try everything.”

“My brother has a natural sweet tooth,” Damien mentioned.

Esther looked between them. “You’re actually related?”

“We don’t like to use the ‘A’ word,” Damien explained, “but my stepmother couldn’t conceive, and when she married my father, they decided to adopt. It had been her dream to sponsor a child in need. Thus, Liam came into the picture.”

“I was only a few months old when I was adopted,” continued Liam. “Damien was two. We’re both all we know.”

Fondly, Damien nodded. “Despite looking different, we have the same spirit.”

“Yeah, a mischievous one,” Drake commented behind his second cupcake.

“Liam is definitely an angel,” Maxwell contested. “Any time any of us got into trouble, Liam had our backs.”

“With Damien peeking around the corner at us from his hiding spot,” Drake added, and he and Damien laughed.

Damien held up his hands in surrender, smile gleaming around the circle. “Fine, I relent. I was the mischievous one. Cleverly so.”

The heel of Dani’s boot dug a sharp trench in the sand as she relaxed back on her hands, curious eyes roaming over each man, until at last they rested on Damien.

“Can I ask where all this ‘mischievousness’ took place?”

Damien’s gray gaze flashed briefly at Liam. “At our home, of course.”

Dani’s plum lips broadened in challenge. “Your home abroad? Your home in some weird sect on the east coast? On the moon?”

Maxwell chuckled. “The _moon_. How cool would that be?”

“Hey, Chuckles, I’m being serious.”

“Hey, Queen of the Nether Realm,” Drake cut in, “we live abroad.”

“Cordonia, specifically.”

The guys looked to Liam, who remained poised beside Esther. She absently dragged her nails through the sand, dark eyes watching him thoughtfully.

“Where’s Cordonia?” she asked.

“Sounds made up,” scoffed Dani, but Esther ignored her.

“It’s … well, it’s tiny country between Greece and the eastern Mediterranean Sea,” Liam continued, the conviction in his tone faltering ever so slightly. The gentle crash of a small wave breaking on the shore prompted his attention towards the water. “Esther, would you mind taking a walk with me? I’ll gladly answer any questions you have while walking off some of this sugar.”

Her heart flipped in her chest as she watched him get up, and her hungry hand accepted his as he helped her to her feet. Quiet befell the group in their wake. Dani’s hardened gaze trailed her friend and the stranger along the edge of the water.

“So, Dani –”

Dani immediately looked at Maxwell, who paused in distraction as Tariq jumped to his feet and slid his phone from his pocket.

“This is the most unorthodox bachelor party …” he muttered and wandered up the berm, face lost in the glow of the screen. “Damien, how does the wi-fi work out here?”

To himself, Damien chuckled. “Be right there, Tariq.” He nodded at Dani and went after the struggling man.

“Alright,” Dani turned back to Maxwell and Drake, “which one of you is getting married?”

Maxwell’s attention shied away. Beside him, Drake stared directly at her.

“Liam,” he replied simply.

Her mouth fell open. Angry, she shook her head. “Big fucking surprise.”

“Yeah,” Drake snapped, “you guys certainly were.” Climbing up to his feet, he brushed the sand off the backside of his jeans. “Excuse me.”

Glaring at the back of his denim button-up as he made his way to the tide again, the bluntness of his confirmation rushed over Dani like a splash of cold water. She twisted to go after Esther but found Maxwell’s hand on her shoulder. In surprise, she scooted away from.

“Don’t worry,” Maxwell spoke softly, “Liam’s about to tell her.”

“What kind of selfish asshole leads a girl on just to surprise her with the news he’s engaged?”

“The kind of guy born into specific obligations.”

Pinching the crook of her nose, Dani got up, Maxwell following suit.

“Please, Dani, don’t be mad. Let me explain –”

She rounded on him and Maxwell took a timid step back. “I’m done playing this game. I don’t give a shit where you assholes are from, how much money you clearly have, or what tonight’s sob story is – if he doesn’t wanna marry the bitch, he shouldn’t have proposed to her, and he _sure as hell_ shouldn’t have led Esther on!”

“It’s not – there is no ‘bitch’!” He planted himself in front of her, handsome face contorted with every ounce of confidence he could muster. “There’s … well, there’s five of them.” He shrunk again, lips parting to expose a guilty grin. “Possibly six?”

It happened out of nowhere: her arm cocked like a shot gun, knuckles four golden bullets ready to lodge into his face. As the confidence drained and terror overtook him, Maxwell ducked behind his hands and waited for the pain to erupt throughout his skull … but peeking between his fingers, he saw Drake lock a skillful arm around hers.

“Trust me, I’ve been exactly where you are too many times to count.”

“ _Get off me, dickbag!_ ”

Lifting his hands in surrender, Drake stepped back and chuckled. “Geez, lady, I’ve been called a lot of things, but _that_ – that’s a definite first.” As she batted her rumpled blouse into place, he teased, “I’m assuming your practice of the dark arts inspires a creative tongue, eh?”

Maxwell looked her up and down. “Dani’s a witch?”

Leveling the brim of her hat, she shot daggers at him. “Derek –”

“Nope.”

“Drax –”

“Close.”

“ _Whatever the hell your name is_ , you will _never_ even _begin_ to know the creativity of my tongue – _ever_.” She turned on her heel and stalked up the berm.

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart over here!” Drake yelled after her. A cheeky grin spread across his face when her middle finger popped up in response, catching an oblivious Tariq off guard.

“Oh my!”

Worried, Maxwell shuffled closer to Drake. Both men watching her walk away. “Should we let her go without Esther?”

“She can clearly handle herself,” groaned Drake.

* * *

Down the beach and away from the mayhem, Esther and Liam sauntered at a snail’s pace, their concern centered on their closeness and the hope that the stretch of sand would never end. She listened to his animated description of Cordonia, and he asked her a million questions about growing up in Los Angeles. He told her that she had an inviting element in her voice that aided in his visualization of her memories. This cemented the grin on her face. He then asked her if she could do anything in the world, what it would be.

“I’d want to own my own bakery,” she replied, wistful in her response. She stopped and turned to him, humored by the surprise glossing his lovely brown eyes. “You think it’s silly.”

“Goodness, no! I just find it fascinating that a woman who works so hard would wish to continue to work despite having a list of resolutions that would offer something else.”

“Come on, isn’t the generic answer winning the lottery?” She bumped his shoulder and relished the heartiness of his laugh. “It’s not that I wouldn’t be grateful for something like that. I just like to get my hands dirty every now and again.”

“And make people smile.”

“Yes! I like to know what I create makes people happy.” She began to walk again, and he eagerly matched her pace. Her phone buzzed in her purse, but she ignored it. “Trust me, the job isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s fulfilling. That’s what I crave.” After a pause, she looked at him. “What about you?”

He considered the question as he locked his hands behind his back. “I suppose I’d do something that also fulfilled me but that didn’t confine me, either. I enjoy helping people and making them happy as well. I guess through it all, I miss having moments for myself sometimes … moments like these are what I treasure more than anything.”

“That’s a specific tangent, Liam. What do you do for a living, anyway?”

His steps slowed to a stop. He caught her hand and drew her a little closer but maintained a painful amount of space between them. His heart began to flounder. 

“What is it?” she asked, expression flooded with concern. “Liam, are you okay?”

His lips perked into a small smile. “Thank you for asking, Esther, but I’m afraid I haven’t been honest with you this evening.”

“Oh no. You’re a serial killer, aren’t you?”

Laughter cut through the melancholy of his words and he took her in, thankful for her presence. “Worse.”

The laughter died between them. Esther’s gaze dropped to the sand. She toed a random shell and then lifted knowing eyes to his.

“It’s your bachelor party, isn’t it?”

Liam nodded slowly. For the first time that night, he was unable to hold her stare.

“You’re awfully flirty for an engaged man,” she sighed and shifted her attention to the water. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“There’s no ‘she’ yet.”

Confused, she regarded him.

“I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Esther. That’s what I do for a living. I live for other people. Damien and our friends threw this party for me to get away from everything before the social season starts and I begin my obligation to find my princess … the future Queen of Cordonia.”

His words soaked in, pleasant because of the tenor of his voice, yet hardly translatable. She blinked, took a breath, and nodded as reality refocused around them and the ground stopped moving under her feet.

“Well, I suppose I can’t complain about working at Break Zone anymore. At least I get to take that apron off. You … you have quite the job, Liam. But I have no doubt in my mind you rock it.”

“I hope so, Esther. That’s one of my biggest fears, letting my people down.”

“I can’t imagine you being fearful.”

Sorrow laced his quiet chuckle. “As a prince, my fears are plentiful. Assassination attempts, financial ruin, the welfare of our people, my family … never being loved for _who_ I am as opposed to _what_ I am.”

In the darkness, he found her, and she watched him in brave curiosity. Somehow, bright yellow caution tape wound itself around him, warning her he was now off limits, not only because of his station and spousal pursuits, but because she wanted something equally extraordinary without the burden of his condition. But the unspoken meaning of his disposition tugged at her heart strings. Was she the first person he’d spoken honestly with outside of his small group of friends? The thought made her feel so important, so necessary.

With care, Esther took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Hey,” she said just above a whisper, “I barely know you, Liam, but trust me when I say who you are shines through. You’re a good guy, and your kingdom and people are lucky to have someone like you.”

“I hope so, Esther.”

“I’m a great judge of character. Not to say I don’t make mistakes. I mean, I hang out with Dani.”

The remark left him tittering again, allowing for another welcome break from reality. “Your dysfunctional pairing reminds me of myself and Drake.”

“Then we’re both clearly fools.”

“Yes,” he agreed, growing serious. “I suppose we are.” Offering his elbow to her, Esther accepted and together they walked back in comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I welcome all feedback, comments, and constructive critiques. As a reminder, I will be deviating from the game's canon, so if you're an avid loyalist, this is your warning (though I've already done so in this chapter, obviously ;]) I also am editing as I write, so I apologize in advance for any and all grammatical/spelling errors and general weirdness. Wishing everyone a safe and healthy new year <3


	2. Possibility

She didn’t sleep well that night. Even after a long, warm shower, the scent of salt and sandalwood found her whenever she’d shift in the sheets, catching her off-guard and rousing her fully awake and cognizant of all that had transpired again. The last time she looked at the clock, it was well after three a.m., and when her alarm went off that morning, it was seven.

Prying herself from the bed, Esther shrugged on her robe, made a cup of tea, and slipped out the door where she padded up the stairwell to the third level of the apartment complex to a familiar door. She knocked hard beneath the chipped, gold-painted 15 and waited. Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side. The door jerked open enough to allow for the chain lock to extend. Within the gap, Dani widened a sleepy, eyeliner-smudged eye.

After unlocking and opening the door, she moved aside to let Esther in, curious about the early intrusion.

“Are you okay?” She watched her friend take a seat in the center of the couch and place the mug on the coffee table.

Tired, Esther shrugged.

“You look like shit, dude.”

“Says the lady who refuses to take off her makeup before passing out.”

Tousling aside unkempt hair, Dani shrugged the remark away and slouched onto the opposite side of the couch.

“For real, what’s up? You’re usually in the middle of your morning routine right now – and I’m usually dead to the world.”

“I didn’t sleep well at all.” Gaze falling to the mug, Esther absently ran her fingers over the terrycloth sleeve, lost in thought. “Last night was … I don’t know.”

“Annoying? A waste of time? Testosterone-y?”

She shot Dani a pointed look. It was returned with an eye-roll.

“Liam.”

Color blossomed in Esther’s cheeks. “I haven’t met anyone like him in a long time,” she replied, defense in her tone. “Just the way he looked at me, like he was actually looking _at_ me.”

“Well, did you get his number?”

Esther shook her head. “After we found you, everything happened so fast. Plus, he’s leaving today to go back to Cordonia.”

“Cordonia,” scoffed Dani. “Sounds like bullshit, honestly.”

“It isn’t, Dani. I … I looked it up.” Ignoring her friend’s deliberate gape, she continued, “Everything he said checks out. He’s the Crown Prince.”

“ _What?_ ”

Finally, Esther looked at her. “Yes. He’s royalty.”

Dani drank in her words. Raking her hair back, she asked, “Why didn’t you text me last night, like the moment you found out?”

“What does it matter? It’s not like I’m gonna see him again.”

“That explains the weird goodbye hand kissing.” Esther’s lack of response commanded her regard. She observed the slump in her friend’s shoulders and obvious sadness written on her face. “Well, what if you did?”

“Yeah, right. He’s a _prince_ , Dani. I’m not royal – I’m not anything. Just a waitress. A baker. There’s nothing appealing about me to win a prince’s heart.”

“Uh, were you even _there_ last night? I felt like I was the third wheel on some twisted date … with four other extraneous dudes.”

“Still … it was _his_ bachelor party. Apparently, he’s gotta find a princess.” Before Dani could respond, Esther grabbed her tea and cradled the hot ceramic between her hands, the memory of his cologne imprinted on her senses. “It just sucks I’d meet someone as engaging as him and he turns out to be a prince from another country. How ridiculous is that?”

“Like shitty fiction.”

Esther nodded, faraway.

“Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “I will be. I think I’m more annoyed because it kept me up. I don’t even know why.” Finally, she sighed, clutched the opening of her robe with her free hand and stood. “I need to get ready to go. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay, hon. Really. I’m sorry this turned out the way it did. For what it’s worth, he did seem kinda cool.”

She offered her a half-hearted smile.

At the door, Dani gathered Esther into a hug and whispered near her ear, “I’m sorry, babe.” Holding her at arm’s length, she added, “You’re more than enough for any man – even a prince.”

Over the course of the week, that half-hearted smile eventually reverted to one she was used to. The only difference was the return to normalcy was a step short no matter how invested in hanging out with Dani or trying out a new recipe for a macaron was. When bringing out another heavily modified order to a table, she sometimes caught herself casting a glimpse at that table in Section 3. It was always occupied, even when there was no one there. Eventually, Esther made the decision to remind herself that while she’d never see Liam again, knowing those privately expressed admissions they shared on the beach was enough. As the weekend arrived, the unfortunateness of his absence grew into a contentment that she’d been afforded the opportunity to meet someone like him, and that welcomed the earnestness in her smile.

In a way, she found it odd to be so hooked on the presence of a man. It’d been a while she since she’d dated anyone because of the intensity of her work schedule, and no one prior to meeting Liam ignited something in her the way she felt that night. Of course, it wasn’t like she was actively avoiding the potential of sharing a future with someone; it’s just that _someone_ hadn’t shown up yet … and apparently when he had, it wasn’t meant to be due to powers beyond her control. 

“C’est la vie,” she said to herself in self-preservation. “At least I know what I want now.”

Thankfully, she believed in the sentiment and as the week wore on, everything became as it was before, except with a better memory she held on to.

On Friday morning, she was surprised to find Dani knocking on her door as she readied for her early shift at Cuppy Designs. 

“I’m gonna go for a run,” her friend explained, sleep still present in her gaze. “Want a lift to work? I can meet up with you after your shift at Cuppy and we can have dinner on the pier before heading into Break Zone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Later that morning, Dani parked her Jeep and followed Esther towards the strand. They walked together and chatted, both caffeinated and more awake, while Esther tucked the end of her white blouse into her high-waisted skinny jeans and Dani pulled off a windbreaker, exposing a strappy black sports bra underneath.

“Can you hold onto this and I’ll grab it on my way back to the car?” Dani handed Esther her jacket.

“You gonna stop by for a post-run cupcake?”

“Duh.” She patted her tummy above the high waist of her black running shorts. “Oo! Save me one with the chocolate filling.”

Giggling, Esther agreed. As they rounded the corner to the front of the shop, her eyes grew wide and she halted, grabbing Dani’s forearm in the process.

“What is it?”

But Esther didn’t have to answer. They both found two familiar men loitering near the storefront of Cuppy Designs in a heated discussion – or rather, one enduring the other in an evasive stance, the ends of his trimmed, light brown hair caught in the soft sea breeze.

“What the hell are _they_ doing here?” questioned Dani.

Curious for an answer, Esther left Dani in her wake, heart pounding with each step. When they noticed her approaching, a grin broke out across the shorter man’s face while the other crossed his arms and glanced away. She stopped a safe distance from them.

“Esther – there you are!” The grinning guy moved closer and extended a hand. “It’s me, Maxwell. From last weekend.”

“Maxwell … that’s right.” Guarded, she gave his hand a shake.

“And Drake.” Maxwell jerked his head at his friend.

“Oh yes, Mr. Talkative,” Esther remarked when the other didn’t say anything. Drake relented a strained nod in response. “What are you guys doing here? Is Liam okay?”

“He’s fine,” answered Drake through tight lips. Suddenly, the coldness thinned, a dark flash crossing his gaze. “Speaking of talkative …”

Dani planted herself beside Esther, fists on her hips. “If you think for one second I don’t have mace on me, you’re in for a painful surprise, asshole.”

“I’m curious where you keep it wearing that.”

“I bet you’d love to know.”

“Alright,” Esther cut in. To Maxwell, she continued, “So, if Liam’s fine, what can I do for you? I’m assuming you didn’t fly all the way back here for cupcakes and crepe cake.”

Maxwell beamed. “Well, actually, that sounds –”

“Just get to the point, Maxwell,” Drake snapped. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

The other man’s excitement dropped. “Oh, right. Anyway, I wanted to provide you with an offer, Esther. I know this is short notice and you’re obviously about to go into work _but_ … what if I told you you could _not_ go to work today and come with us to Cordonia instead?”

Dani’s shrill laugh filled the space between them. “That doesn’t sound like an episode of ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ at all.”

“Oh, good, because I’m totally not going for that vibe.”

Esther froze. “Wait – what?”

When Maxwell’s confident smile didn’t break, Dani’s frantic gaze ping-ponged between him and Esther.

“You’re being serious?”

“Absolutely!” he replied. “As you know, Liam has to find a fiancé this social season. It’s all pomp and royal obligations as he woos the ladies from our court in hopes he makes the right choice and marries a woman who’ll eventually ascend the throne with him.”

A flood of emotions welled inside Esther. Suddenly, everything she’d slowly accepted began to break apart under the pressure of his words.

“But I’m … I’m not a part of a court or anything …”

“True, but my house – House Beaumont, the _best_ house – can sponsor you. My brother and I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone to contend. However, after what I witnessed at the bachelor party, it’s only right we offer you our sponsorship.”

“Why me?”

On a single, assured step, Maxwell planted himself before her, a genuine expression illuminating his face. “Because those women are competing for a crown, Esther. They know all the right things to say and do to win his audience. But you, you’re at an advantage – you’d have his affection. It’s already there, which puts you ahead of the game.”

“Wait a sec.” Dani moved between them, hard eyes on Maxwell. “You’re asking my best friend to _compete_ for some guy’s attention against a bunch of other girls from your kingdom after what you apparently witnessed?”

Gulping, Maxwell stepped back and nodded. “It was obvious … wasn’t it?”

“Look, I don’t know what planet you’re from, but Esther doesn’t need to compete with anyone for some dude. She’s better than that.”

“Dani …”

“No,” Dani shot back over her shoulder at Esther, “this is insulting.”

“What’s insulting about it?” Drake asked.

“If Liam likes her, he should fly his ass back over here and ask her out like a normal guy.”

“Things don’t operate like that in his situation,” returned Drake, matching the heat in Dani’s tone. “That’s the point of this conversation. Let’s say whatever Maxwell saw is valid; Liam couldn’t deny his royal obligations to gallivant around here with her. There’s a process, and Maxwell is graciously offering her a chance.” He darted serious brown eyes at Esther. “If you actually like him, that is.”

Esther locked onto Drake.

“Well, do you?” he pressed.

His roughness resonated inside her, bringing her back to the flutter in her stomach from that night. Unwavering in her position before Drake, Esther finally nodded.

“That doesn’t make this easy.”

“Of course,” remarked Drake. “Especially because _this_ doesn’t happen – at all.”

Maxwell interjected, “It’s not completely unconventional. It’s happened in the past.”

“Not with anyone outside of Cordonia.”

“But it happened, Drake.”

“Are any of those girls the Queen Mother?”

Maxwell shifted uneasily. “Well … no. But this is different! Our friend deserves a shot at love, Drake! As his best friend, even you support that.”

Unresponsive, Drake raked a tense hand through his hair.

“Anyway,” Maxwell returned to Esther, who stood rigid in his view, “I’m sorry to drop this on you but I had to offer because I _did_ see something there. You didn’t even know who Liam was and it was there. If Liam must go through this, he should at least have the opportunity to do so with someone who loves him back.”

“You’re delirious,” chided Dani. “No one falls in love in a few hours.”

“I hate to admit I agree,” Drake added.

“Jesus, of course I’m not in love with him!” Esther barked at them both. “I mean – we just met.”

Maxwell’s face dimmed.

“That also doesn’t mean nothing happened.” Her focus trailed to Maxwell, who casted her a hopeful gaze. “I was up all night thinking about him afterwards … about how sweet and genuine he was. He’s unlike any guy I’ve ever met – any person, really, and I should know, I’m a waitress. The way he treated me even in my stupid uniform spoke volumes to the kind of person he is.”

The broad, befitting smile returned, and Maxwell suddenly seemed like himself again. “If you come with us, you won’t be a waitress anymore, Esther. You’ll be a Lady of House Beaumont.” 

The door of Cuppy Designs swung open, calling the group’s attention to the prompt chime of a bell dangling off its aluminum frame. One of Esther’s coworkers leaned out, flour and frosting splattered on her apron.

“Esther, what are you doing out here? Your shift started five minutes ago.”

Esther’s jaw hung. She looked to Maxwell and Drake, then to Dani, who widened her eyes in fearful expectation. Clutching the jacket in quaking hands, she shifted to her coworker.

“Uh …”

But she couldn’t form the other woman’s name. She didn’t budge. Her mind raced, unrelenting in a swirl of uncertainty. A breeze caressed her cheek, in it, a faint trace of salt … and _sandalwood._ It warmed the inside of her chest, heating her skin. Swallowing, she handed Dani her jacket and faced her coworker.

“Sandy,” she said, her words solid, “I’m not coming in.”

* * *

Again, Dani asked her if she knew what she was doing, and for a third, less teeth-chattering time, Esther told her yes. Her friend side-stepped beside her, the jacket swinging around her arm with every frantic move. Flitting her suspicion at the men trailing a polite distance behind, Dani lowered her voice and pulled open the passenger door of the Jeep to toss the jacket onto the weathered seat.

“Holy fuck … you’re actually doing this. Holy fuck …”

Two calm hands settled on Dani’s shoulders. The girls faced one other, brown eyes locked in a significant way.

“I’m gonna transfer my savings into your account, and you need to make sure the landlord gets it so he can close out my lease.” She paused, bit her lip. “My stuff …”

“I’ll get Juan and Marco to move everything into my mom’s garage for now.”

A small, grateful smile crossed her lips. “Thanks babe. I’ll call my mom on the way there. She’s gonna be pissed but it is what it is.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely hiding out. Remember that time she almost killed you for wanting to do that culinary program in France?”

Esther laughed nervously, and Dani eventually joined in. When they quieted, she sighed. “I’m not in my twenties anymore. She doesn’t get a say.”

Dani nodded and then lowered her head in silent realization. “I didn’t expect to wake up this morning to watch you leave everything behind … to say goodbye to you. For good.”

When her eyes lifted again, they sat in pools of tears. She glanced away and lined her shoulders as though the seagull meandering nearby was suddenly more interesting. Gingerly, Esther brought her back by her chin.

“This isn’t goodbye, Dani. I expect you to visit. Who knows – I may be home sooner than you think.”

“Bullshit.” Dani batted her hand away. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re queen next week.”

“Uh, it’ll be a lengthy process,” came Maxwell’s meek intrusion.

Dani glared at him. Drake pulled a folded piece of paper out his pocket and approached, offering it to her.

“What’s this?”

“Just some information,” he explained. “Contact numbers, the address to the palace. It’s not like you won’t be able to call her or her, you. We’re not trying to hide anything.”

Dani plucked the paper from his grasp and gave it a brief scan. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“And she’s right, you’re allowed to visit. I know Liam would set you up with a room.”

“Yes! Maybe you can DJ one of our parties,” Maxwell added enthusiastically.

“You couldn’t afford me.”

Maxwell’s eyebrows crinkled together. “Uh, I’m sure the King and Queen could figure something out.”

“She’s joking, Maxwell,” Esther explained, smirking. Turning to Dani, she gave her a hug. Behind them, the low hum of an engine sounded, and they found a sleek black limo pulling up behind the Jeep. Again, the friends found each other’s emotional stares.

“I think that’s me.”

Dani nodded.

“Don’t be upset, Dani.”

“I’m not making any promises.”

“I love you.”

Gritting her teeth, Dani nodded again. “I love you, too, Es. Please don’t do this.”

Beaming tearfully, Maxwell placed a hand on each girl’s back. “Esther, your chariot awaits.”

In reluctance, Esther took a step back. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Dani mumbled, breaking eye contact again.

“ _You’re_ gonna be okay.”

Dani said nothing. Instead, she leaned against the side of the Jeep and watched the threesome head to the limo. The driver promptly tipped his head to Maxwell and opened the door, allowing him and Esther in. To Dani’s surprise, Drake threw her a short look and then ducked into the vehicle, the driver closing the door behind him.

When the limo was out of sight, Dani hid her face in her palm, her heavy sobs shuddering her naked shoulders.

* * *

The gravity of everything hit her square in the chest as the private plane lifted her from the familiar LAX tarmac, bringing her above towers of business buildings and crowded neighborhoods and bustling traffic, and eventually a massive blue ocean she’d spent many years of her life enjoying a view of. When they cleared the layer of smog that grew into a pure, pillowy blanket of white, the tears finally came under the weight of the cabin pressurizing and the fact that somewhere in the mass of unseen dots of life was Dani and a world that suddenly felt so far away … that _was_ far away.

 _Holy fuck_ , she thought with Dani’s fervent excitement but in her own voice. A tissue appeared and she took it, Maxwell’s sympathetic smile suddenly skewing her view. Carefully, she wiped her eyes and balled the tissue into her fist as he settled in the seat before her. 

“I’m sorry …”

“Don’t be.” His voice was low, gentle. “I’d be a little worried if you weren’t at least a little sad.” He placed a few sympathetic fingers on the end of her knee. “It’s not like you’re leaving some forgettable life behind.”

“And it’s not like you won’t ever go back,” came Drake’s comment from the other side of the aisle. He stared out his window in the opposite direction, hands folded in his lap.

“He’s right,” Maxwell agreed. “But the hope is you’ll do so as a queen.”

Esther drew in a labored breath.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Both Esther and Maxwell eyed the other man. He shifted in their direction, reserve shadowing his features.

“Come on, Drake …”

“I’m not purposefully trying to be a dick,” he retorted at Maxwell. “But you’ll be if you aren’t honest with her. This isn’t gonna be a walk in the park. She needs to know that upfront. Court is full of wolves. Even you know that.”

Maxwell eyed Esther. “We’re not all bad.”

“I appreciate the concern,” she remarked sharply in Drake’s direction, “but you don’t have to be a dick about it, no matter how hard you to try to convince yourself you’re not.”

Drake sighed and dug his elbows into his knees, hands dangling between them. “I’m just saying it’s not gonna be a cake walk. Liam’s parents are the King and Queen of a country you didn’t even know existed a week ago. The women you’re going to meet have been training all their lives for a moment like this. They’re gonna see you as an outsider and treat you as such. Cordonia is their home, and your placement in contention for the crown will be a threat to everything they know and love – our customs, traditions, and future. It’s gonna be hard to convince them that you can maintain all of that being an American with no prior contact to any of it.”

“If you don’t think I’m worth this, why’re you here?”

Drake opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again. Swallowing, he glanced at Maxwell. A dark defeat overcame him and he shrugged.

“Because as much as this numbskull is a pain in my ass with his romantic delusions, I won’t lie and say that Liam wasn’t smitten with you. And, being Liam’s best friend, I’ve never seen him ‘glow,’ or whatever the hell term people use for being in love – er, i _nterested_ – the way he did that night. He … he seemed really sad when we left and … well, he’s mentioned you a few times since.”

His words softened her insides.

“Who knows, maybe it was because you’re someone different. Maybe he had a taste of being normal. Whatever the case, it’s … because of you.”

Maxwell smirked. “If Drake can become a believer, court will be a piece of cake.”

“I’m not a believer of anything, Maxwell,” retorted Drake. “It just is what it is. It’s my duty as his friend to do what’s best for him, even if it’s a little different.”

Esther cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t ever become a motivational speaker, Drake.”

“I’ve totally told him that.” Maxwell clapped his hands together in eager excitement. “And while Drake is not completely wrong in what he’s trying to say, that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to get you in a place where you’ll be on the same level as all the other ladies. We’ll have our own fun-filled crash courses in everything!”

Drake scoffingly snorted. Maxwell ignored him.

“My brother, Bertrand, he knows this stuff better than anybody. Together, we’ll turn you into a walking-talking example of Cordonian custom and lady-ness! House Beaumont will go down in Cordonian history books as the most epic house that was ever built!”

“As long as you don’t mind a splash of Angelino grace and attitude, I hope the outcome is exactly what you’re hoping for.”

Maxwell grinned. “I haven’t known you long at all, but I already foresee an amazing adventure ahead of us. You’re capable, Esther, and you’re possibly the coolest person I’ve ever met for even giving this a chance.”

“To be honest, I’m just excited to see Liam again. To get to know him and understand where he comes from.”

“And I know he wants the same from you. Drake’s right, he hasn’t been himself this week. He’s really good at being diplomatic with his emotions, but we can totally tell he’s been off. Everyone. Except Tariq.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Tariq’s heart belongs to his phone. And shoes.”

“Precisely! My point being his opinion doesn’t matter.”

“When does it ever?”

“ _Yes_. He’s not a part of the best friends of the roundtable club … even though the main dining table is more like an oblong rectangle that seats, like, sixteen, I think. But still – in my mind, I envision us sitting around a smaller, more select, actually _round_ table devising the most epic pranks and awesome adventures. I’ve even got some ideas for a crest.” Maxwell paused and sighed in contentment as he settled back in his seat. “It’ll be nice to have some female, non-hostile influence for a change.”

Wide-eyed, Esther proffered him a polite smile. “I don’t have to wear a suit of armor or anything in this fantasy, right?”

He shot upright again, eyes aglow. “No, but that would be badass! Actually, you’ll get to wear pretty dresses and Cordonian couture. I’m a bit of a connoisseur in that department.” Wiggling his eyebrows, Maxwell adjusted the lapel of his jacket.

Her politeness melted into a grin. “Do you really think I can do this, Maxwell?”

Leaning closer to her, Maxwell matched her expression. “I’m betting my house, my reputation and bragging rights on it.” He then took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “But more importantly, what I or Darke or anyone else thinks is beside the point; what matters is what _you_ think. If you want this – if there’s even a small glimmer of something more with Liam you can see, then you’re already ahead of all of us, Esther. All I can promise is that I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Though he was still a perfect stranger breaking away from her to relax into the seatback, the honesty in his words spread through her like wildfire, singeing away the surmounting feeling of inadequacy that stiffened her. In the quiet that overcame the cabin, Esther accepted a cup of tea from the attendant and found solace in his company and the melodic hum of the plane’s engine as they flew farther away from her country towards a thrilling final destination.

Like a creeping tide, the overwhelming emotion of the day tucked over her, her eyelids growing heavy at the pull. Sleep found her and with it came visions of Dani and strobe lights, and Liam and his friends blinking in and out of existence as she jogged to find him; to grasp the concept of him amidst an impending din that throbbed in time with a heavy beat. When he disappeared, she clung to the trail of sandalwood and searched for a moment of peace and togetherness in his presence. Whenever he was out of view, she found his outstretched hand and resumed, until suddenly everything became shaky and her eyes popped open just as Maxwell shook her knee.

“Cordonia’s outside the window! You don’t wanna miss this!”

Esther sprung to life, sleep dissipating entirely as the thick frame at her side showcased an expansive city of ivory walls and terracotta roofing atop a rock-faced coast. Velvet blue waters lapped the limestone. A massive lighthouse stood at the cliff’s edge above a u-shaped port. And nestled between rolling, hunter-green hills and the lively display of city-life sat the majestic white walls of a castle – Liam’s castle.

Her heart thudded feverishly as she took it all in. Beside her, Maxwell observed in silent joy. Even Drake towered behind them, gaze fixed on home, only breaking the view for a moment to cast a curious glance at the top of Esther’s braids.

After they adhered to the captain’s call to fasten their seatbelts, they made a smooth descent into the small Cordonian airport before greeting a fresh coastal breeze Esther took a deep inhale of. It was reminiscent of home in theory only, but enhanced by the underlying draft of pine, myrtle, and rosemary from the flora beyond the airport fences. She didn’t want to exhale any of it but didn’t have time to keep any of it; Maxwell whisked them into a waiting limo where she pressed herself against the window all the way to the castle, contributing to the idle conversation with distracted effort.

When the stretch of vehicle finally came to a halt, she wanted to jump out and come face to face with the trickery she was sure she’d find herself in; there was no way Ashton Kutcher was not going to get in her face with a camera and demean her gullibility on national television; that Dani would pop out of the limo’s front seat, wielding a mischievous index finger at her disgrace and laugh in time with Maxwell and Drake.

 _There’s no way I’m this lucky_.

But when the driver came around to open the door, and the boys allowed her out first, and she came face to face with the stony circular driveway in the middle of an open, lushly manicured courtyard, the notion for cruelly elaborate pranks vanished. She stood in front of a painting crafted by traditional technique and hued in unmatchable class. It was two stories of cream and yellow-trim walls, golden columns, and rows of sparkly glass panes she was sure were taller than her. Above its slate-blue roofing, puffs of white cloud stretched in lethargy against an illustrious, sunny sky. Around the castle’s base were rose bush topiaries, rows of holm oaks and apple trees, and ceanothus and Daphne shrubs. The flora adorned the driveway and accented a massive, tri-level stone fountain planted in the center of an open area in the yard before iron-wrought, gold-capped fencing.

Pulling it all together was a massive wooden entryway where footmen carried the guys’ modest amount of luggage. Suddenly aware that nothing they carried was familiar, Esther glanced down at her aproned front. A well-worn pink stain from some random baking task smirked up at her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and waited between Maxwell and Drake, feeling naked.

_I literally have nothing except a phone and wallet. I don’t have socks or a hairbrush … not even goddamn toothpaste._

Maxwell ushered them on, outwardly keen to her disposition. “Don’t worry, Esther, we’ll get you sorted out right away. Let’s just drop off your, uh, apron first.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her steps growing heavy next to his. “What am I doing?”

Maxwell paused and took her around the shoulders, gradually leading her on.

“I didn’t bring clothes … I’m breaking my lease.”

“Hey now, Esther, there wasn’t time to pack.”

“Toothpaste … not even toothpaste.”

He patted her arm affectionately and shined a grin at her. “If it makes you feel any better, you smell like cupcakes.”

“I’m going to walk into a royal palace with literally nothing on my person except a fucking Cuppy Designs apron.”

Drake chuckled from behind. Maxwell stamped a defiant foot onto the pathway and shot him a dangerous look.

“Inappropriate timing here, bud!”

Rolling his eyes, Drake shoulder-checked Maxwell’s other side and meandered past them, hands stowed in his jean pockets.

“Well, _bud **,**_ this is where I leave you and the potential, albeit appropriately timed meltdown that’s gonna occur. Also, I have no intention of shopping for an entire wardrobe and the necessities that come with transatlantic moving because you didn’t think to spare a few extra moments so Esther could grab some toothpaste.”

Crinkling his nose in angry embarrassment, Maxwell felt the burn of a blush across his cheeks. “I was excited …”

“Pretty sure I mentioned the logistics last night in the hotel room when I was trying to talk you down from making a stupid mistake.”

“I was excitedly exhausted, and you were exhaustingly _boring_ with your logistical speak.”

Drake shrugged. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you around, Esther … if you’re lucky.”

They watched him head for the courtyard towards the high-flora walls of a garden labyrinth. The sting of his words and the surmounting panic attack over her actions held her in place, despite the growing desire to rush after him and smack him.

 _If Dani was here, he’d already be on the ground …_ The thought made her wince. _Dani._ Sighing, Esther looked to Maxwell, who seemed to be in a similar state. She took his arm and walked with him.

“Okay, seriously, I might deck your friend,” she muttered, inciting his chuckle. “He’s such an asshole and with everything going on inside me right now, he’s at the top of my hitlist.”

“I’m sorry about him. He’s … well, he’s just Drake.”

“I mean, what is it? He doesn’t like girls who aren’t Barbie-thin or Karen-white?”

“It literally has nothing to do with your curves or skin tone, Esther. It’s all him. He doesn’t really fit in here.”

“Yeah, a real duke of douchebaggery.”

“He’s not a duke. He’s a commoner.”

Esther’s eyebrows heightened. “You mean he’s not even a noble?”

Maxwell shook his head. “He grew up in the palace because of his dad’s station in the King’s Guard. We were all friends but as we got older, things about our ‘stations’ became more apparent. Liam, Damien and I don’t really like to focus on it because, really, we’re all just us. But sometimes Drake seems to fixate on it. I know it bums Liam out.”

Licking her lips, Esther nodded. “Still … you’d think he’d be on my side a little bit considering I’m not even a commoner of _this_ country.”

“Look, don’t let him or anyone get to you. Even though this is all scary, it doesn’t mean there aren’t gonna be a lot of fun moments. You’re gonna meet some amazing people – none _nearly_ at my level, though – and eat delicious food and see places you’ve never even heard of!”

Maxwell thrusted open the towering wooden door, revealing a spacious foyer that led to a red-carpeted grand staircase. Marble floors twinkled up at her; high-vaulted, gilded ceilings created a heavenly umbrella overhead. Floor-length paintings and tapestries hung from the walls. At the sight, Esther had to remind herself to breathe.

“But those are adventures that’ll have to wait,” Maxwell replied to her awe-filled state. “I’ll show you your room and then we can head out to get you some essentials. I know a cool little shop nearby where we can get the basics, and tonight you have an appointment at the palace’s boutique. We need you to look perfect for your grand entrance!”

Jaw hanging, Esther whirled around to him. “My what?”

“Tonight, the suitors will be presented to Prince Liam and the royal family. This will be your chance to make the perfect first impression to them and the court.”

Pulse ablaze, she asked, “What’ll I have to do, exactly?”

Maxwell chuckled and shifted his eyes as though the answer was obvious. “A little curtseying, indulge in a plate-full of fine food, and be subjected to a whole lotta fun because it’s a ball – _a masquerade_!”

* * *

After showing Esther her impeccably grand room, they spent the afternoon together strolling through a small, neighboring town on the outskirts of the city so they could remain close to palace and keep an eye on the time. She purchased bathroom essentials, a phone charger, and other items. Then, Maxwell led her through some clothing stores where she bought everyday wear and a couple pairs of shoes, some sandals, and a pair of slippers (the lush mats in the bathroom did not cover the entirety of the cold marble).

When she felt somewhat put together again, Maxwell brought her back to the palace and gave her time to settle in. She bathed in a claw-footed tub and didn’t hold back on making use of the antique bottles of bath oils and salts that fragranced the room in lavender and mint. Clad in a replacement terrycloth bathrobe that wasn’t broken in the way she would’ve liked, she completed her skincare routine and applied a modest amount of makeup on her face, accenting the look with a deeper matte lipstick that made her supple lips pop. Tracking product through her waves of hair, Esther crowned two dark braids around the back of her head. She dangled gold hoops from her lobes and fondly stared down at the nameplate necklace in her palm.

Hesitation weighed in her grasp. It was an odd feeling. As much as she adored the necklace her mom had given her for a birthday a long time ago, the dread of wearing it to an actual royal masquerade ball made her reconsider.

Laying it out on the vanity table, she grabbed her phone. The backlight revealed the phone’s wallpaper, which was a picture of her and Dani in the middle of a laughing fit outside of a club in Downtown L.A. She couldn’t remember exactly what they’d been laughing about; it was a few years back, but Esther was bent forward, an arm draped across Dani’s shoulders. Dani was biting her bottom lip, a painfully humored grin on her face. They were mid-walk and slightly blurred. Esther had no idea which of their friends had taken the photo that night, nor why they had her phone in the first place; there’d been other random pictures in her gallery, including multiple selfies of her and Dani. This one seemed the best fit. In her sparkly, clingy party dress and Dani’s black tube top and suit slacks, it captured the dynamic of their friendship. They were opposites in a lot of ways, and yet they always found common ground in being themselves with each other.

Sighing warmly, Esther grabbed the necklace and put it on, a palm lingering over it before falling into her lap.

Throwing on a plain tee and some yoga shorts, Esther made her way to the boutique. Inside, she turned to the elaborate display of gowns and a half-dressed woman who quickly snapped her head up as she stepped into the waist of a warm, rosy dress.

“Oh!” The dress pooled elegantly to the floor around the young woman’s feet. She stood a few inches shorter than Esther, her slender frame toned and smooth. Straight, auburn strands of hair brushed across the tops of her shoulders, the gentle slopes of her brown eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” remarked Esther. “I was told to come down here at this time; I didn’t know anyone else would be here.”

The woman ruefully beamed. “It’s my fault. I got so caught up in the whimsy of all these gorgeous gowns I lost track of the time.”

“I’ll let you finish.”

She shook her head. “If you don’t mind me getting dressed, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Tugging the dress up with one hand, she offered the other. “I’m Hana Lee.”

Esther warmly shook it. “Esther Martinez. I’m absolutely new here.”

Giggling, Hana slipped on the shoulder straps and rotated half-way around to try for the zipper.

“You want help with that?” offered Esther.

“That’s very generous – thank you!”

Esther slid the zipper up its track and stepped back to allow Hana room for a twirl. Pink sequins twinkled at her from the matching lace hanging over the skirts flowing from the dress’s fitted waist.

“You look beautiful.”

Hana’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you, Esther. You’re very kind.”

She scrunched her lips together with a brief nod and then scanned the racks of dresses around them. “I guess it’s my turn to find the perfect dress.”

Hana produced a pink mask from a box on a rack behind her and put it on. “And a mask! I saw a couple of dresses on that rack I think would look absolutely gorgeous on you. There’s an angel one, which I think is quite befitting based on our little rendezvous here. Or the other if you’re feeling … devilish.” Biting her lip, Hana threw her a wink.

Esther turned and found the two dresses to which Hana was referring. Holding them both up, she gave the other woman a grin.

“Being at court is all about standing out, right?”

She replaced the angel-inspired gown on the rack, and Hana giggled. Pivoting around, Esther held up the shapely, strapless red dress. A black lace mask hung by its silky fabric ties from the top of the hanger.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for red.”

“I can’t wait to see you in it!”

Esther took no time in switching out her comfy clothes for the dress. It hugged her skin in the most pleasant way; hugged her like a date both familiar and new. Doing another spin in the full-length mirror to the beat of Hana’s cheerful clapping, Esther slipped on a pair of black stilettos and completed the outfit with its accompanying black mask. When she faced Hana, the other woman nodded in approval.

“You’re going to turn heads for sure.” Shaking out her skirts, Hana smiled. “I better go. I’ll see you in a while, though. I’d love to get to know you better, Esther.”

“Likewise, Hana. I’ll see you there.”

* * *

Adjusting the black and gold-embroidered vest beneath his formal calf-length jacket, Liam glanced back at Drake through the mirror. His friend sat with an ankle crossed over his knee, a hand on the other. He wore black dress slacks, a black dress shirt and a thin black tie. The fact that his shirt was tucked in brought a faint smile to Liam’s lips, but it was hard to maintain, as entertained as he was that Drake managed to dress up for the occasion – as loose as the expression seemed. Drake looked as contemplative as Liam felt, and just as quiet.

“I’m asking too much if I suggest a mask, aren’t I?” Liam turned around and took his own ornate mask from the vanity. “I’m thinking you could definitely pull off a Phantom of the Opera motif.”

Drake laughed dryly. “I’m actually going for the serving staff look.”

“An apron, then?”

Drake shifted on the couch and planted his rested foot on the floor, arms crossed. “You seem a little quiet tonight.”

“As do you. Your typical complaining usually eases my nerves but I haven’t heard a single comment at all.” Liam sat himself on the opposite end of the couch. He watched Drake draw back the few strands of hair that had fallen over his brow. “Are you okay?”

Drake smirked. “Are _you_ okay?”

Liam sighed. “Alright. I’ll play. I’m a little down if you must know.”

“What is it?”

“I’m … nervous.”

The humor on Drake’s face fell. Absently tracing the plush cushion between them, he remarked, “The tour?”

“The tour … this season … everything. I feel like my life is going a million miles a minute and I can’t seem to grasp a single moment for myself.” His brown eyes shifted in a coy motion towards his friend. “Does that make me selfish?”

“Why would you ask me that? You know for a fact I’m going to say no, Liam.”

“But I’m going to be king, Drake. A king cannot be selfish.”

“Some kings are. But you’re the opposite of men like them.”

“When these feeling arise, it doesn’t feel like it.”

“You’re human, Liam. I’d be concerned if you didn’t feel like that sometimes.”

“I just want to be the best king. For my people … and my wife.”

Understanding crossed Drake’s face. Scratching the stubble on his chin, he turned to Liam. “Why’d you accept?”

“Because Damien abdicated. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You had a choice.”

Liam’s gaze drifted back to the vanity mirror where he found his reflection staring back from the bottom corner of the spotless glass. “If not me, who? I couldn’t leave the throne up to fate. I had to do the right thing, even if it wasn’t necessarily the choice I wanted to make.”

“Why?” pressed Drake.

Stomach tightening under the pressure of Drake’s hard tone, he regarded him directly. “Because I couldn’t abandon our people.”

Drake tipped his head in respect. “Then why are you so concerned about selfishness? You sacrificed a life of personal pleasure for everyone here.” When Liam didn’t respond, he continued, “Everything was going to change whether you wanted it to or not. The braveness of your decision gives you the power to control this to some degree. You have to realize that in your choice, you still have the luxury of being true to yourself.”

“I’m scared, Drake,” replied Liam in barely more than a whisper. “I’m scared that my wants will overpower the logic and grace I must possess to bring this country into its next era.”

Scooting closer to him, Drake leaned forward on his elbows and caught Liam’s eye. “Tell me, if you weren’t in line for the throne, if Damien wouldn’t have abdicated, would you have stayed on that beach?”

Liam’s stare fell to the elaborate golden filigree swirling in the luscious threading of the area rug. The memory of that soft sea breeze caressing his face coupled with the warmth radiating in his chest from the company he never intended to find washed over him. It was pleasurable. He sighed, and in that rush of hot breath, the memory played out in the space before him. Finally, he looked at Drake.

“I don’t know. But the promise of possibility is a seductive thing.”

Nodding slowly, Drake sat back.

“I envy you, Drake.”

The admission stiffened Drake’s muscles. “Don’t.”

“I do,” he pressed. “You have the ability to come and go as you please. You can be with anyone you choose. You aren’t burdened with the weight of this country.”

“That’s not true. I’m burdened with everything you are because I choose to carry it with you. I’m no prince – I’m nothing but a commoner in your court. But I also don’t intend to stand by and watch this thing bury you.”

Liam’s hand crept along the cushion and found itself atop Drake’s. He gingerly gave it a squeeze.

“I know I don’t always make it easy –”

Liam’s dark eyes struck across the small space at Drake’s.

“You know I don’t. I’ll always have a cynical attitude towards the pomp and circumstance. But it’s never at you. Liam, you’re the most unselfish person of status I know. And I’ll always support you with whatever you’ll let me help you with, even if that means forcing you to relent sometimes.”

A chuckle escaped the prince’s lips. “Drake Walker, the man hell-bent on dropping me down a few notches.”

“Someone has to every now and again.”

Releasing his hand, Liam settled back, slowly finding comfort in his posture. The register of Drake’s next words triggered a smile.

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it.”

Drake sighed. “It’s outta love, always. You’ve always had my back and I’ll always have yours.”

“Then would you have supported me staying on the beach?”

“You hate the water.”

Liam smirked. “It might have been bearable with the right company.”

The other man remained quiet for a moment.

“You know I’m right. Look at you. You know exactly how I feel.”

“You win, Your Majesty.”

Pleased, Liam chuckled.

“Do I think it would’ve been a hasty decision? Yes.”

“Worth it?” Liam asked.

Drake proffered him a small smile. “When is experience ever not?”

Liam nodded and glanced back at the mirror. “Do I look okay?”

“Like the king of a masquerade – well, the crown prince for now. But you’ve got future king written all over you.” Drake stood and held his arms out, presenting himself. “And me?”

Liam met his height and straightened Drake’s tie. “Like the best friend of a future king.” Situating his mask on his face, he started for the door when Drake suddenly said his name. Liam turned and watched his friend slip his hands into his pockets.

“I know you have a lot to consider now that the season’s starting. More so than just what being crowned will bring. But remember that possibility is everywhere … even here. You’re gonna find her.”

Beneath the curve of his mask, Liam smiled. “I want to, more than anything. For Cordonia, and for myself.” 

* * *

It was weird being heralded as Esther Martinez of Los Angeles upon walking into the grand ballroom on Maxwell’s arm. It was even stranger to witness the mass of elegantly dressed and masked individuals conversing in clusters and dancing waltzes to an a ten-person chamber orchestra seated in white and gold-trimmed attire on a lavishly decorated platform before a red velvet curtain at the front of the ballroom. She stood in the middle of a Victorian-esque romance novel, painted lips apart, nails digging into Maxwell’s jacket sleeve.

The scene in front of them didn’t faze him at all; he was more focused on his amusement of her reaction and promptly excused himself to grab them some champagne so she could “mingle” as he so casually put it. He left her a tangle of nerves and excitement, her bright eyes surveying the room for anyone – or anything – familiar … which was an impossible feat. But when she caught sight of a pink splash of sequins from the slender girl she’d encountered half-naked in the boutique, Esther treaded carefully on her pretty heels to Hana, who was mid-conversation with a few other women.

“Hey, Hana.”

Hana turned and glowed a beautiful smile in return, a delicate hand cupping Esther’s rigid elbow. “Esther! I was just speaking about you.”

“She was indeed.”

Esther fixed her sight on the fiery redhead who stood between two other young women – one with long, black hair and a curious disposition and the other, stoic with waves of blonde hair that touched the emerald straps of her dress.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Hana chided herself. “This is Olivia –”

“Of House Nevrakis,” cut in the redhead, fire raging in her green eyes.

“I’m Kiara,” greeted the dark-haired woman, a hint of a French accent laced in her words.

“Madeleine,” announced the third, her poised stature composed in their distance.

“You’ve just missed Penelope –”

“She’s insignificant, anyway,” Olivia cut in. “But you, Esther … from how you were heralded into the room and the social chatter flittering about on the wings of some shoddy hummingbird, it seems you’re anything but.”

Esther wanted to feel pressured by Olivia’s scrutinizing stare, but the initial accusation in her tone alerted her inner survival technique.

“What social chatter?” she questioned.

Olivia tittered and shook her head. “Oh my, excuse me. I forgot you’re not someone from court, naturally.”

“I suppose it was bold of me to assume that nobles don’t gossip,” returned Esther, evenly.

“Gossip is unbecoming,” said Madeleine. “But regard for what is being said, especially if it’s worth listening to, is tactful. And we were taken by Lady Hana’s remarks as she’s the only person outside of Maxwell Beaumont and a few noted others who’ve had contact with you.”

Esther shifted nervously to Hana. “Good things, I hope?”

“Of course! I was just telling the ladies how helpful you were in the boutique –”

“All of my seamstresses are tremendously helpful,” interjected Olivia.

“Good for you. Except I’m not a seamstress.”

“Then what are you, _Lady_ Esther?”

“A decent human being.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “To Madeleine’s comment, _really_ , who are you? Why are you here if not to assist lesser nobles in the boutique?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Esther caught the profuse blush that crossed Hana’s surprised features before the other woman found interest in the marble floor beneath her heels.

Straightening her shoulders, Esther looked directly at Olivia. “I’m Lady Esther Martinez of House Beaumont. I’m originally from Los Angeles, California, but Maxwell is sponsoring me this social season to contend for His Majesty’s hand.”

Olivia giggled behind the rim of her champagne flute. Kiara’s eyes widened. Only Madeleine stood unfazed, her icy blue gaze taking in the black lace hiding the top half of Esther’s face.

“Then you’re acquainted personally with the Crown Prince,” she surmised.

Kiara snapped her head in Madeleine’s direction. “Oui, did you not hear Penelope when she said –”

“We’re all aware of Penelope’s loose lips,” barked Olivia over her shoulder. “The question that remains is,” she turned back to Esther, “how acquainted is she?”

Esther looked at Hana. “Oh wow, this is gonna be a fun social season.”

Before Hana could respond, Madeleine glanced past the group and set her empty flute on a tray of discarded glasses a server carried on his shoulder.

“They’re going to make the official address. Please excuse me.”

Kiara promptly followed Madeleine towards the platform where the orchestra’s string section was beginning to quiet. With a final glare, Olivia departed.

Air rushed from Esther’s center up through her lips. Shaking out her shoulders, she swallowed.

“Are you okay?” Hana asked, concern clouding her features.

Esther nodded. “That was a little intense.”

“Yeah, Olivia seems to be that way.”

“I meant all of it.”

Hana bit her lip. “Well, we should make our way to the front. We’ll have to be ready to meet the king.”

“Any advice?”

“Yes. You will address Constantine as King Constantine initially, and Your Majesty thereafter. And curtsey. Definitely curtsey.”

“Right.” Esther shook out her arms. “Thanks Dani – er, Hana.”

“Dani?”

But before Esther could explain, the royal family were announced. King Constantine stood flanked by Damien and Liam, and on Liam’s other side was Queen Regina. On shaky feet, Esther shadowed Hana up to the platform as each lady was presented to the king and his family. When it was Esther’s turn, she held fast to Hana’s advice and executed a low curtsey, greeting him as King Constantine. To her surprise, the king extended his hand, and she took it as she carefully stood upright.

“Lady Esther,” he said, his weathered tone taking her by surprise. “Yours is a new face.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m from House Beaumont.”

“Interesting,” he mused and tipped his head for her to continue down the line.

She bowed to Damien, who smirked deviously. He leaned in to kiss her palm and then softly said upon rising, “Give ’im a minute. I think he’s properly overwhelmed.”

Esther nodded nervously and stepped before Liam, heart punching the back of her sternum. She caught the scent of his wonderful cologne and the sight of his beautiful features enhanced by the sculpted mask on his face. For a moment, she was certain he had forgotten her; that that night had been some fantastical dream she was foolish to entertain. How could he remember her in a sea of faces he’d seen so many times or was meeting for the first time? She was buried in spectacle and decorum, a blatant outsider dressed up as a devil amidst the sway of pretty lace and silk.

_Holy fuck – don’t puke._

His gloved hand took hers and he broke the line upon which his family had formed and stepped a cautious, polished toe to her.

“Esther?” Her name quivered from his lips, hitting her square in the chest.

“Yes, Prince Liam. It’s me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't recall what I listened to while writing this chapter (most of the first six, actually, because I started this story a few months ago), but here's a list of what I edited to. I enjoy curating playlists for my stories as the lyrics or music itself often shape the emotion or direction of where the story's going. But if anyone wants a little insight of this chapter's mood, here are the songs in no particular order :) Thanks for reading!
> 
> "How to Disappear Completely" - Radiohead  
> "Whisper of a Thrill" - Thomas Newman  
> "Unmade" - Thom Yorke  
> "Nothing - Justin Strauss Mix" - Depeche Mode  
> "CYBERPUNK 2.0.20." - HEALTH  
> "6 Underground" - Sneaker Pimps  
> "Dark All Day - Power Glove Remix" - Gunship, Tim Cappello, Indiana  
> "Annihilation" - i_o, Lights  
> "The Beginning of the End" - Crosses  
> "Another Space Song" - Failure


End file.
